The Clown Incident of 1995
by Seriously Sam
Summary: It was all Dean's fault that Sam was even afraid of clowns to begin with…


Title - The Clown Incident of 1995

Summary - It was all Dean's fault that Sam was even afraid of clowns to begin with…

Disclaimer - Ha! Yeah right. I wish.

**"The Clown Incident of 1995"**

The credits rolled on the television screen. Dean could hear Sam hyperventilating next to him, something he had been doing through most of the movie. Looking down at his little brother, he saw that Sammy's eyes were wide, his mouth open slightly. His tiny body was literally shaking in a mixture of fear and anxiety. One hand grabbed the comforter the brothers shared while the other one gripped Dean's arm. He had been gripping it tightly, digging his small nails into his brother's flesh only ten minutes into the movie. Over the past two hours, Dean's arm became slightly numb due to the death grip.

He knew he shouldn't have let Sammy watch the first part of the mini-series. It was only a year after what their father dubbed "The _Psycho_ Incident of 1989." Their dad had been out on a hunt and the Alfred Hitchcock classic _Psycho_ just so happened to be on television. Dean allowed Sam to watch it with him. It took nearly two months for Sammy to even think about going into the bathroom alone, always dragging Dean in with him to stand guard at the door. Sam still refused to even go near a motel, causing their dad to rent a rundown apartment while they stayed in Michigan until the semester of school ended. Let's just say that Dean had gotten a good hollering at for allowing Sam to watch such a movie at the tender age of six.

Dean wasn't even going to let Sam watch the mini-series, but as soon as his baby brother's eyes filled with tears and his lip quivered, Dean was a goner. He allowed Sam to watch it with him _only_ if he promised that he wouldn't be afraid of anything he might see and not to let their father know that the mini-series ever graced the television screen. Only twenty minutes through the movie, Dean knew he made a huge mistake and was already regretting that he allowed Sammy to watch such a movie. He would obviously be scared to go anywhere alone or go near sewers.

"Dean?" Sam asked in such a small, scared voice.

"What, Sammy?" Dean was dreading what was coming next.

"I never want to go to Derry."

"I promise we'll never go to Derry."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd Pennywise do it?"

Sam's eyes finally left the screen to stare up at his big brother with tears burning in his eyes. Dean felt his heart break, how could he be so stupid to let Sam watch a killer clown movie? Hadn't he learned from allowing his brother to watch a psycho motel manager kill people? Sighing, Dean reached out, pried his brother's hand off his arm, and wrapped it around his brother's petite frame.

"Sam, Pennywise isn't real."

"But-but the things Daddy hunts… people don't think they're real but they're real," he pointed out as he cuddled as close as humanly possible to Dean.

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because… because clowns aren't real, Sammy."

"They are too!"

"Well, yeah, they're real but they don't really kill people. Clowns are really friendly."

"I don't like them."

"Look, Sam, if Pennywise ever existed - which he doesn't - some hunter would have done off with him by now."

"Did Billy and Bev and Rich and all them kill Pennywise?"

Dean sighed. Apparently not but he wasn't going to see the conclusion the following night. There was no way that he could allow Sam to sit through another two hours of the movie if he ever wanted his brother to stop clinging to him. Dean tightened his arm around Sammy, leaning down and planting a small kiss in the boy's mess of hair. The entertainment he would sacrifice for the sake of his brother.

"Yeah, they killed him all right."

"Then why are they going back to Derry?"

"False alarm," Dean lied. "Now go get ready for bed. Don't forget to brush your teeth."

"Dean?"

"What?"

"Come with me?" asked Sam quietly, looking up at Dean through his brown fringe.

"All right. Let's go."

"Can I… can we share a bed?"

"As long as you don't kick me."

All seemed all right in the end, despite the fact that their father had no idea why Sam suddenly started crying when he parked outside a McDonald's only two weeks after watching _It_. The boy broke down into tears, clenching Dean as tightly as he could, blubbering to his dad about how Ronald McDonald had an evil brother who killed kids. Dumbfounded, their dad drove away from the fast food chain and didn't ask any farther questions which Dean was extremely relieved about. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be punished for allowing his skittish younger brother to watch anything Stephen King wrote.

Five years passed and the word clown wasn't so much as even uttered by the two brothers. In all honesty, Dean even forgot about the whole incident. It wasn't until they were stuck in a motel room in Maine that Dean remembered the event thanks to the fact that _It_ was on television again. A smirk appeared on the now sixteen year old's face as he knew exactly what he was going to do.

Sam woke up at nearly six in the morning. Groaning, the boy got out of bed and walked sleepily to the bathroom. Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, Sam stumbled into the bathroom and proceeded to grab the toothpaste off the sink. He was always the first one up to get ready for school. Dean slept in until the very last second, making the two of them late and landing them in more detentions than Sam ever thought possible.

_"Want a balloon?"_

Sam froze. Where did that come from? Looking frantically around the room, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Why did that voice sound so familiar? With his heart pounding in his chest, Sam tried to ignore the voice. He was just hearing things. Shaking his head, he went on brushing his teeth a little quicker than he normally would.

_"Arentcha gonna say hello?"_

There it was again! The voice! What the hell was going on? Deciding that brushing one's teeth was utterly overrated, Sam reached out to turn on the tap only to jump back several feet. The water was _red_. Sam gasped as he dropped his toothbrush onto the floor.

_"But I am Pennywise the Dancing Clown."_

There was no way he was staying in the bathroom for one more second. He bolted for the door, somehow managing not to scream out in horror. No. No. No. They weren't in Derry, but they were in Maine. What if Pennywise was real? What if _it_ was _in_ Rockland, Maine? As soon as Sam rounded the corner into the small kitchen, he bumped into Dean, colliding hard.

"Wh-wh-whoa, take it e-e-easy," Dean stuttered.

Since when did Dean ever stutter? Wait. Didn't someone in the movie stutter? The brother of the kid that died. The kid… Georgie! The little paper boat scene with the water and Pennywise hiding underneath the road in the sewer thing. His brother stuttered. Dean was stuttering. The bathroom. The stuttering. Pennywise. It was all connected.

"Dean?"

"Wh-what's wrong, G-Georgie?"

"DAD!" Sam screamed at the top of his lungs. "DAD!"

Sam backed up away from his brother. A loud _thump_ could be heard from down the hallway. After a littler rustling, John Winchester appeared in the kitchenette in only his boxers with a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. His hair was sticking straight up in the air, his face gracing a twelve o'clock shadow. He was alert and erect, his eyes scanning frantically for a demon.

"What is it?" he demanded as he clicked off the safety to the gun.

"Dean… he's not himself," Sam accused as he pointed at his brother. "There are voices in the bathroom! And the water's possessed!"

With an anguished look on John's face, he reached out, pulled Sam close to his chest, and proceeded to aim the gun on Dean. Tears burned their father's eyes as he stared at his oldest son. Dean's eyes grew wide as he shot his hands up in the air.

"Whoa, wait!" Dean said frantically. "It was a joke!"

"What?" asked John as he slowly started to lower his guard.

"It was a joke!" he rushed. "Sammy's afraid of clowns, you know? Well, that's because he's been terrified of Pennywise ever since we was like six or seven."

"What the hell is a Pennywise?" his father demanded.

"You did this?" Sam shouted. "You bought the movie or something and were playing certain parts so I'd hear it in the bathroom? What'd you do to the water?"

"Actually, it was on TV last night so I tape recorded some portions," Dean replied with a sly smile. "Gosh, you should have seen your face."

"You're a jerk!"

"This is one of your stupid pranks?" John screamed, pushing Sam to the side. "I thought I told you two to cut it out six months ago when Sam lost his hair!"

"It was just for shits and giggles."

"What the hell is a Pennywise?"

"A demonic clown killing machine from the movie _It_."

"And when did you two watch this?"

"About five or so years ago…" Dean trailed off as John did the math in his head.

"Was this before or after 'The _Psycho_ Incident'?"

"After."

"Dean, I could kill you right now." John ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I told you no scary movies for Sam!"

"He started to cry!"

"I don't care!" he screamed. "Now look what happened! Dammit, Dean, I thought you two were dying when Sammy screamed!"

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"What'd you do to the water?" Sam interrupted.

"The water?" questioned John.

"I told you that the water was red."

"Actually, you said it was possessed," corrected Dean with a smirk.

"Dean?"

"I found the water tank and added a lot of red food coloring." Dean took a step away from his father. "Pretty creative, huh?"

"What am I going to do with you two?" John asked aloud.

"Whatever you do, just don't sell Sammy to the circus."

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam shouted.

"Dean," John said in a low warning voice, "you are walking on thin ice right now."

"Sorry, Sir."

"No more pranks," John started. "No more scary movies. No more clown talk. No more messing around with the water system. No more screaming unless it's a life or death situation. No more causing me more gray hairs than I already have."

"Dude, you do have some gray hairs," Dean said as he stared at his father's head. "How old are you exactly?"

"Dean!"

"I know. Shut my cakehole. Gotcha."

"You're grounded," he announced as Sam smiled smugly.

"Actually, I'm already grounded."

"For what?"

"Uh… I'm failing English, algebra, physics, and home economics, remember?"

John let out a sigh as he dragged a tired hand down his weary face. His boys were going to be the death of him. Ghosts, demons, werewolves, shape shifters, and what other supernatural stuff out there he could deal with; however, when it came to his boys, they drove him up the walls at times. Between Dean's blatant refusal to even attempt to pass high school to Sam whining about joining soccer and stop moving around, the two were a handful. How had he lasted this long without Mary?

"You're not failing."

"Too late, Dad."

"You will go to school, pick Sam up from his school, and then come straight home. There will be no TV, no comics, nothing. You will do your homework and then study until it's time to make dinner. Do you understand me?"

"I don't do homework," Dean said as though the very thought of it was just lunacy.

"Are you talking back to me?"

"No, Sir," he said quickly. "School, Sam, homework, study, dinner, bed. Got it."

"Good." John then turned to his youngest. "You are never allowed to watch another horror movie for as long as you live, do you understand me?"

"Dad, I'm twelve now-"

"I don't care! I'm giving you an order, Sam."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now you two listen to me very closely. If you ever so much as even think about pranking each other again, I will make sure it is the last thing you do. You two start this crap and then it escalates until it gets out of control. I can't be worrying about whether or not you will accidentally kill each other. I have a job to do!"

"Yes, Sir," they both said in unison.

"And if I ever so much as hear either one of you utter, 'Pennywise'…"

"No worries, Dad. I promise I will never torture Sam with _clowns_ ever again."

"Dad…" Sam started.

"Good. Now get ready for school. I had better not get a call from school today either, Dean. I'm not in the mood. So don't be late, don't fall asleep, don't fight, don't mouth off, and don't you even think about causing another explosion!"

"Come on, it was chemistry!"  
John made his way back to his bed, his head shaking the entire time. Dean turned his brother, a satisfied look on his face. Sam looked back at him, annoyed beyond all else.

"You're a freaking jerk."

"That's all you got, Sammy?" asked Dean as he wrapped an arm around his brother. "Not going to get me back?"

"You heard what Dad said," he replied as he tried to get away from his brother, but Dean's grip tightened.

"Since when do we listen to Dad about that kind of stuff? You know… _The Shining _is on this weekend. Up to see if you can last through a horror movie without geeking out on me?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"No, it's a dare. A double dog dare."

"You're on."

"That's what I like to hear, Sammy." Dean laughed. "Don't even think about asking to share a bed with me after you get scared."

"I'm not going to get scared."

"You know, denial isn't very healthy for you."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I really hate you sometimes."

"You know... I really hate you too, Sammy."

Author's Notes - Well, this was my first attempt at a Supernatural story. I was watching _It_ on TV earlier, and I just couldn't help myself. Hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to review.


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